


To serve the King

by smaragdbird



Category: Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)
Genre: Hand Kink, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dastan shows his brother some tricks he learned</p>
            </blockquote>





	To serve the King

“The third step is always the hardest.” Dastan told his brother and tried the backflip again only to fail.

“You’ll break your neck.” Tus said and didn’t sound particularly impressed by his brother’s acrobatics. They had the afternoon for themselves in a shadowy garden while Garsiv trained with his troops in the sun outside the palace and their father and uncle showed a guest from Rome around.

“I also fail to see how this will help you in battle.” Tus continued and bit into an apricot.

“It will surprise our enemies.” Dastan grinned enthusiastically.

“The Prince of Persia doing a back flip in the middle of a battle will certainly confuse them....and make our own men fear for your sanity.” Tus laughed. Dastan threw him a dark look before collapsing on the couch next to Tus and snatching the apricot out of his brother’s hand.

“Hey!” Tus protested: “I was eating that.” But Dastan had already peeled the stone away and pushed the fruit into this mouth with a big grin.

“Sweet.” Dastan smirked and licked apricot juice from his fingers.

“You-“Tus called before grabbing Dastan and using his one, severe weakness against him: his ticklishness. He dug his fingers into his little brother’s ribs until tears streamed down Dastan’s red face and he panted and begged for mercy underneath his laughter.

“No...please....brother...please...st...stoooop....please....”

Tus finally let go of Dastan and stretched out on the couch next to him. He took another apricot from the bowl while Dastan tried to get his breathing under control.

“Too bad this doesn’t work with Garsiv.” Tus said conversationally while he parted the little yellow fruit in his hands.

“That’s why he’s so serious all the time.” Dastan agreed still gasping.

“True.” Tus chuckled and gave Dastan the other half of the apricot.

“See, little brother? I’m perfectly capable of sharing with you.” Dastan ate his half before he answered: “I’m sharing, too.” He leaned over Tus and only hesitated a second before tilting his head down to kiss him. Dastan smelled and tasted like the apricot he had just eaten, sweet and thick, mixed with what Tus recognised as something purely Dastan.

“Dastan, we shouldn’t-“Tus began when they pulled apart.

“Relax, no one’s here.” Dastan promised him with desire burning fiercely in his bright eyes.

“Still we shouldn’t-“But Dastan interrupted him with an impatient sigh:

“Haven’t we done this one time too many for your token protest?”

“I’m trying to be reasonable here.” Tus said seriously.

“Didn’t father teach us that love went beyond reason?” Dastan asked and pulled Tus in another kiss, which Tus didn’t fight because their father had also taught him that a good king always listened to his heart. Dastan reached for his hand, breaking the kiss.

“Your hand is sticky.” He explained, pulling it up to his mouth.

Dastan licked with broad, heavy stripes over Tus’ palm with his tongue, bit lightly into the side of his hand and into the soft skin between his thumb and his index finger.

He bit into the tip of each finger and then down, as if he ate them, to the root. Once they were fully in his mouth, Dastan curled his tongue around them, tensed his lips into a tight ring and slowly let the finger glide out of his mouth. He repeated this on each finger, slow, unhurriedly.

“Very sweet, indeed.” He said in a low voice, sending Tus a heated look under his long lashes before he devoted himself to the other hand as if Tus wasn’t sitting next to him with a flushed face, breathing fast and shallow. But when it came to driving Tus out of his mind Dastan showed a rare patience and ignored Tus’ pleading whimpers and breathless moans of his name in favour of his other hand.

Without pausing in what he did, Dastan slid his leg over Tus’ thighs, sitting on his lap. Tus, who could barely manage to look away while Dastan was caressing his hand thoroughly with his mouth, laid his other hand flat against Dastan’s chest. Maybe to stop him or to get his attention but Dastan was completely engrossed in his task. Dastan bit lightly into the soft skin between his thumb and forefinger, then licked along the mark. Tus shivered. In some part of his mind he thought that it was ridiculous that he found this arousing but he did. He had no idea what had prompted Dastan to try it.

His hand slid down Dastan’s naked chest, finally resting at his belt and holding on to it and using it as leverage to draw Dastan into a kiss once he was finished with Tus’ other hand. His skin tingled, had become more sensitive he noticed when he slid his other hand around Dastan’s neck.

Dastan’s hands slipped under his coats and pushed them from his shoulders, wandering lower on his back, tracing the pattern that bones and muscles left under the skin. Tus broke the kiss. He looped one arm around Dastan’s waist to keep him close but put his other hand flat on Dastan’s lower chest to give him enough room to move. He licked a broad stripe along Dastan’s breastbone before moving on to tease his nipples with his tongue. Dastan was watching him, dark hair falling into his face and mouth slightly parted.

Tus let go of him and Dastan fell from his knees onto his arse, firmly settled on Tus’ thighs. Their eyes locked and Dastan seemed to search for something in his face, an answer or permission that only Tus could give him. Tus had no idea what that was so he breathed the first, the only word that came to his mind.

“Yes.”

And Dastan practically melded against him, as if he wanted to crawl into Tus’ skin and stay there, a sentiment Tus shared.

They kissed again, deep and passionate and Dastan was driving his hips rhythmically against Tus, becoming more frantic with every passing moment. Tus held his brother by his neck, preventing him from breaking the kiss even when Dastan gasped for air, tensing as his climax washed over him.

Dastan laughed against Tus’ mouth before pushing away and sliding from Tus’ lap down to his knees between Tus’ legs.

“You don’t need to-“ Tus began to object but Dastan merely grinned. “I live to serve my king. In every way he needs my service.”

“Well, then, “Tus laughed, “Who am I stop you?”


End file.
